Song Remains the Same
Chapter 3 / Rule of Thirds
"Better to be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."
- Khaled Hosseini
Finding Sam was easy enough thanks to modern technology and some quick detective work. Within an hour of Dean's reappearance, Bobby, Alex, and Dean were on the road and headed to Pontiac, Illinois. Suspiciously, the place where Sam was holed up was close to where Dean had been buried. So it appeared that Sam had succeeded in getting Dean back, but the question was how? And why was he still acting like he didn't want to be found?
Alex figured they'd find out soon enough. The closer they got, the more nervous she became.
A couple hours into the drive, the hunters pulled over at a gas station. Bobby fueled up the Chevelle while Dean dug into a burger in the front seat.
"Oh my god," Dean said admiringly through a huge mouthful. "This is amazing." He made a very appreciative mmm sound and grinned back at Alex, which was kind of disgusting with all the burger and mayonnaise in his teeth. But she loved it.
"You're gross." The would-be-insult was touched with a certain note of affection and Dean raised the burger her way in salute, chomping loudly. Alex grinned, feeling sunshine in her soul so deeply she could have cried. It was like Dean had never left at all. She could forget and dismiss the months of pain and confusion and wandering; the overwhelming loneliness and grief. Everything was normal again: She was in a car watching her dumbass brother pigging out on junk food. It was the best thing in the world. Well, almost. The only thing missing was Sam. Alex's smile faded. She felt so many things toward him—anger, remorse, guilt, disappointment, heartbreak. She thought about the 'babysitting' comment and wondered for the millionth time if that's all she had ever been to Sam—a responsibility he hadn't wanted, a hindrance on his freedom. And maybe Sam wasn't the only one who thought that.
She glanced at her oldest brother, faltering before she went through with it. "Dean, can I ask you something?"
"Duh," Dean replied as he took another huge bite of his sandwich.
She fidgeted, suddenly interested in her bitten-short fingernails and not sure how to put her question into words. She was about to sound stupid... but if she didn't ask, she wouldn't know, and she had to know. Still, this was going to suck to come right out and ask. It was embarrassing. But Dean would give her the facts. So she pushed forward even though she felt queasy with nerves. She tried to sound nonchalant. "I, uh, I was just wondering... and just tell me the truth, okay?" She went quiet, hesitating. "How bad of a downer was I on, you know, the family, while we were growing up?"
Attention piqued, the hamburger was temporarily forgotten. Dean looked at her intently, frowning. "The hell you talking about?" His eyes were narrowed.
Alex got more uncomfortable. She didn't want to explain it. But she guessed she had to. "I mean, it was hard on Dad to have these three kids tagging along after him all that time, and then one of them was you know—special needs." She said 'special needs' with a certain type of disdain that her brother clearly didn't like.
Dean's face became hard and almost a little angry. "Hey. I told you a million times—nothing about being mute made you any less of a person. Ever. And you were never any kinda burden on us. Period."
Alex met his eyes hesitantly, feeling much younger and smaller than she was. "Then why'd Sam leave us when he was eighteen? And why'd he leave again?"
Dean was confused and hurt at the same time. "...You think that was your fault?"
Alex looked down at her hands angrily. Yeah, kinda. Sam had always felt 'stuck' with her in high school years, she knew he had. Leaving the family meant being free of having to look after and put up with her.
Dean softened, his eyes saddening. Even though she hadn't replied, she didn't need to. He knew her too well. "Al... no." He sighed, a weary sound. "Dammit, you really are too much like me." He sounded guilty, but quickly covered it up with a try at reassurance. "Listen, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Sam's just being a jackass. Wouldn't be the first time."
Across the parking lot, Bobby was headed back toward the car from the convenience store.
Alex shook her head slowly. Dean hadn't heard the fight they had. He didn't know how much they'd hurt each other. Alex remained silent, but Dean saw through her easily. He could read his sister like no one else, after all. He had years of experience figuring out her mood and thought process from a glance alone. "Listen, whatever happened between you two... we'll stow it," he said. "We'll find Sam and put this damn family back together if it kills us." He paused, and then added as an afterthought, "Like it or not."
Alex still said nothing. That sounded terrible, honestly. If Sam didn't want to be in this, why force it?
"Okay?" Dean prompted. It was a bit forceful.
Alex nodded automatically and gave him a "yeah," even though she wasn't sure how committed, if at all, she was to Dean's plan. She felt ill thinking of seeing Sam again, which was sad. She and Sam had been thick as thieves during childhood. Then they'd had drifted apart as teens and broken apart completely when he went to Stanford. When he returned to hunting, they'd found a way through the mistrust and burnt bridges despite things never being quite the same as in childhood. But now? Alex didn't know if their relationship could survive that last fight. She'd said something unforgivable. Something she wouldn't blame Sam for hating her forever about.
Later
"Hey, sleepyhead." Alex felt herself being shaken. "Wake up." She found herself staring at Dean through bleary eyes.
She scanned around groggily, sitting up stiffly from where she'd been slumped into the car door. When did I fall asleep? Her voice croaked. "Where are we?"
"Some motel." That was the moment when Alex spotted a familiar, dark car parked a few spaces over. The Impala! Her stomach jumped. She was no longer sleepy. "Bobby went in to find out what room Sam's holed up in," Dean said, then got out of the car. Alex scrambled out after him, grabbing her jacket and yanking it on, suddenly filled with trepidation. Would Sam be happy to see them? Would he be happy to see her? What if he welcomed Dean back and told Alex to screw off? That last scenario seemed most likely to her.
In the chilly night air, the motel sign flickered. Dean approached his car, brooding contemplations making his expression tense. He touched the car briefly, like one might pet a beloved companion animal. His expression softened, and the ghost of a smile appeared.
Just then, Bobby appeared out of the check-in office and quickly made his way over. "Wedge Antilles is in room two-oh-seven."
Another smile fleetingly passed over Dean's face at the Star Wars reference. "That's my boy." He chuckled softly. "Let's go."
The inside of the motel was dim and run down—pretty much like almost every other place they'd ever stayed, Alex thought. At the end of the hall, Room 207 was marked by a cheesy red heart plaque. Weird. A honeymoon suite?
"Here goes nothin'," Dean muttered, then knocked on the door.
A couple seconds passed before the door swung open, and the three of them couldn't hide their surprise—instead of Sam, a pretty, dark-haired young woman stood there, dressed in only underwear and a tank top.
She looked at them expectantly. "...So, where is it?"
"Where's... what?" Dean asked, confused.
The woman copped an attitude. "The pizza... that takes three people to deliver?"
A quick glance traveled between Dean, Bobby, and Alex. Dean made a face. "Uh, right. Sorry, think we got the wrong room."
And then, a very tall figure stepped into their line of sight from somewhere back in the room. "Hey is—" Sam stopped dead when he saw Dean, his face the picture of shock.
"Heya, Sammy," Dean said, and Alex could hear all of the deep, unspoken emotions in Dean's quiet greeting. He stepped into the room, moving toward his brother. Sam's eyes went cold, his body tensed, and Alex saw the violence flare in his eyes before Dean did.
"Wait, Dean!" Alex warned, already moving forward to try and stop her brothers from getting any closer together, but it was too late. Sam whipped out a knife and roared, lunging. Dean blocked the slash just barely even as Alex tackled Sam the only way she knew how: using her entire weight to slam her shoulder into his side, effectively knocking her twin to the side by a foot or two. The knife clattered to the floor even as the girl who had answered the door shrieked. Bobby was just behind Alex and grabbed Sam, who was recovering from his sister's attack.
Alex was jarred, a hand on the shoulder that had sustained a hard collision. Bobby barely managed to hang on to Sam, who struggled violently while shouting at Dean, "Who are you?!"
Stunned, Dean struggled to understand what was happening. "Like you didn't do this?!"
"Do what?!" Sam roared, struggling against Bobby's grip. Dean stared in disbelief.
"It's him, Sam! It's him! We've been through this already, it's really him!" Bobby was barely managing to hold Sam back.
Thankfully, Bobby's words seemed to register. Sam's struggling started to ebb. "Are… are you kidding me?" His voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper. He stopped fighting, instead looking at his twin for confirmation. Alex was absolutely mystified at his behavior. He'd brought Dean back from the dead—why was he acting so surprised to see him?
Sam now regarded Dean with a strange, gaping expression on his face as he realized he had it wrong.
"I know." Dean smiled cautiously. "I look fantastic, huh?"
Bobby carefully let go of Sam, who was now on the verge of tears. Sam charged across the short distance and pulled his brother into a crushing hug. The two of them gripped each other tightly for a long moment with teary eyes, then pulled back to look at each other. Despite her misgivings, Alex's heart tugged in her chest. Her eyes filled with tears too.
"So are you two like... together?" asked the very bemused, nameless woman.
"What?" Sam seemed to have forgotten about her. "No. No." He almost chuckled, wiping at his eyes briefly. "This is my brother."
"Uh... got it. I... I guess. Look, I should probably go," the woman said, already turning to pick up a shirt off the floor.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Sam was awkward. "Sorry."
The woman grabbed her jeans and shimmied into them right there in front of them all. Alex saw Bobby, ever the gentleman, looking down and tugging the brim of his cap lower. Dean however, watched openly, mildly approving. The woman grabbed her bag and Sam walked her to the door. "So, call me," she said, looking up at Sam hopefully.
"Yeah, sure thing, Kathy."
She paused, disappointed. "Kristy."
"Uh, right." Sam forced a tight smile then shut the door. He came back into the room slowly, glancing around at everyone with a hooded expression.
Alex glanced at Dean sidelong, questioning and dubious. He nodded almost imperceptibly. He'd also noticed how un-Sam-like that entire scene was. Alex stayed her distance, leaning up against the wall and crossing her arms as Sam sat on the bed, grabbing a button up shirt and shrugging it over his t-shirt. Sam hadn't really acknowledged her and now he was just ignoring everyone—seemed like guilty behavior to her. Dean leaned against the wall across from Sam, his arms folded. "So, what'd it cost?"
Sam had a little dark smile on his face as he buttoned his shirt. "The girl? I don't pay, Dean."
Dean's intensity grew. "That's not funny, Sam." He paused, hardening his voice. "To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?"
Sam took an uncertain beat to question Dean with his eyes. "...You think I made a deal?" He sounded offended.
"We know you made a deal," Alex corrected coldly.
Her first words to Sam. He looked at her with an unpleasant expression. "I didn't." His words were sharp.
"Don't lie to us," Dean admonished, his tone darkening.
"I'm not lying," Sam insisted as slow anger built in his voice and face.
Dean only got angrier. "So what now, I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it?" He stood and approached Sam. "You're some demon's bitch-boy? I didn't wanna be saved like this!"
Sam seemed to reach the end of his patience and stood up in anger. "Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?!"
Dean escalated the situation, grabbing Sam hard by the front of his shirt. "There's no other way that this coulda gone down," he growled, then shouted: "Tell the truth!"
Sam broke his brother's grip wrathfully, his voice raising to a shout, too. "I am telling the truth, Dean! It wasn't me, dammit!"
Alex threw an angry hand out. "Well who the hell else would it have been, Sam!?"
"I don't know!" Sam insisted, attacked and outnumbered, glancing from Dean to Alex to Bobby cagily as his face reddened. "You!" he accused, getting a very interesting expression from his sister. "O-or Bobby!" He was agitated and baleful. "Listen, yes, I tried everything, that's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate, hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Now would you all get off my back?"
The room went quiet as Bobby, Dean, and Alex processed. He really seemed to be telling the truth. So he hadn't brought Dean back. In that case, who... or what... had? Alex shook her head in faint horror, realizing how close Sam had gone to the edge. How much he had risked. All by himself, too. He could have gotten himself killed. Guilt wracked her again. I should have been with him through that. Even though that should have made her soften towards him, she only felt more angry at his reckless stupidity and the way he chose to leave her out. Dean however relented, patting Sam on the shoulder. "It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you." He chuckled dryly. "After all, you did try to kill me when you first saw me. Probably wouldn't have done that if you were expecting to see me."
Sam became embarrassed. "Sorry about that," he said lamely. And the room fell into a brief silence.
Next to each other, Sam and Dean's differences were very noticeable. Sam was something like six-and-a-half feet tall and he towered over everyone in the room, including Dean. Sam was built lean and muscular with a massive upper body and broad, tank-like shoulders. He made Dean look almost stocky in comparison. Sam's facial features were more narrow and sharper than Dean's—piercing eyes, a sculpted jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight, aquiline nose. His hair was longer than it had been last Alex had seen him—it touched the collar of his shirt in the back. He glanced at Alex with a gruff expression and she set her jaw like stone, looking away from him.
"Well kids," Bobby said, "I'm happy as apple pie to witness this reunion, but this all raises a pretty sticky question." He looked at Dean meaningfully. "If Sam didn't pull you out... and if Alex and I didn't either..."
Dean nodded tensely and finished Bobby's thought for him. "Who—or what—did?" He let out an annoyed huff of breath, clearly fed up with the entire exchange. "I need a friggin' beer."
"There's some in the fridge," Sam said offhandedly, distracted by other things.
Bobby muttered, "thank God," and went to get some as Alex retreated back to skulking beside the window moodily.
"So what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?" Dean asked Sam, sitting down across from him.
Bobby handed out beers to the boys and offered one in Alex's direction, but she shook her head no, intently listening to Sam who held his beer without opening it. "Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I, uh, started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback." His eyes flickered over to Alex. She felt another stab of disappointment and anger at his confession—his actions were another silent statement about how helpful he must believe her to be. He looked away.
"All by yourself!?" Bobby was extremely unhappy. "Who do you think you are, your old man?"
Dean got up, noticing something on the floor a few feet away from him.
"Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby. I should've called," Sam said. He glanced again at Alex, who was stone-faced. "I was pretty messed up."
Dean gave a short, humorless laugh as he bent and picked up a discarded flowery bra from the floor. "Oh yeah. I really feel your pain."
Alex looked at her twin brother hard, trying to figure out what was going on with him. Something felt off here, but she wasn't sure what.
Sam began recounting details about how he'd been hunting demons in the area and then Alex spaced out, the voices of Dean, Bobby and Sam becoming like distant hazy sounds as she got lost in her grim thoughts—just a few hours ago she had thought Dean was dead. Just a few hours ago she thought maybe she never would see Sam again. So now, hearing that he'd been hunting Lilith on his own—she felt wounded. Confused. And guilty as fuck. Did he really despise her that much to go on hunting without her? This was her fault. She shouldn't have just let Sam go. She should have manned up and tried to be the bigger person, forgive and forget, and apologized for the shit she said to him.
His decision to hunt Lilith without her stung. But worse than that, she realized she truly didn't trust him anymore, not after this—plus, being here with him in the same room, she could sense that he was holding something back. It was in the veiled glances and guilty way his shoulders slumped. But maybe that was just him not wanting her there. Funny thing was, she had been holding onto hope that maybe they would find Sam and things would be okay somehow. Hunky dory, even. You're so fucking stupid, Alex. What did she think would happen? They would both just see each other again and magically forget the fight and their four-month estrangement? She glanced over at her twin. He was already looking at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. His eyes quickly darted away from hers.
"I know a psychic," Bobby was saying. "Few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking. Maybe we find out whodunit."
Dean nodded. "Hell yeah, it's worth a shot."
Bobby took his phone out of his pocket and headed toward the door. "I'll be right back."
Dean stood up as if to leave, and Sam followed suit. "Hey, wait Dean. What was it like?" There was a moment in which all three of the Winchesters were silent, but especially Alex, who hadn't gathered the courage to ask Dean that question yet.
"What, Hell?" Dean paused, his expression grew thoughtful, then he shrugged and became apathetic. "I dunno, I, I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing."
That was surprising.
"Well, thank God for that," Sam said after a moment, giving Dean a sad smile.
"Yeah. Uh, bathroom." And with that, Dean left the room. Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and finally looked at Alex, who still slouched with crossed arms at the window, wordlessly saying she wasn't happy about anything. Silence spanned the space between the twins for several seconds, and Alex said nothing, just finally looked at Sam. He had his mouth drawn into a thin line.
"Hi Alex," he said finally, the words a little abrupt and cynical sounding, accompanied by a wan smile—but it looked more like a grimace.
"Sam," she said flatly, not bothering to hide her bad attitude.
He crossed his arms, eyebrows knitting together. "It's been four months. Don't you have anything else to say to me?" Alex didn't like his tone or choice of words and didn't mask the glower on her face. She shrugged, staring at him in silent defiance, then pointedly looked away. With an offended huff and a derisive, "wow," Sam laughed bitterly, immediately flaying Alex's last nerve with practiced perfection only a brother could pull off.
She let out a disgusted breath and uncrossed her arms, stepping to him, ready to kick his ass verbally so that she didn't cry instead. "You know what..." she began, but then thought better of it and clamped her mouth shut, turning to walk past him. "I'll be outside."
She let her shoulder knock into his arm as she brushed past and she thought she heard him mutter something like, 'real mature.'
About an Hour Later
Alex sat in the front seat of Bobby's Chevelle as the car raced across the miles toward a physic who could hopefully tell them who or what had taken Dean out of hell. Alex hadn't wanted to ride with her brothers. Up to now, Bobby said next to nothing—not until that moment.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "So listen, I know it ain't none of my business—"
"So then don't go there." Alex regretted her words immediately.
Undeterred, Bobby matched her sass with some of his own. "Well buck up 'cause I'm goin' there, princess. You and Sam need to work out this little family drama hour if we're gonna have any luck takin' down whatever baddie brought Dean back." He glanced at her sidelong. "Avoiding Sam's only gonna work so long."
Alex chewed the inside of her mouth, a bad habit she had picked up in childhood. She knew Bobby was right. "Yeah, I know..." she muttered, reliving her resentments in her head. She just couldn't stand him right now. She was so angry at him for always abandoning ship, and angry at herself too of course. She stewed and stared out the window. "It's all kinds of screwed."
"You ain't kiddin'," he agreed. "But it can be fixed. You know that. You two've fought before."
Her eyes drilled into the dashboard. "Not like this." Her jaw clenched as she faintly shook her head. "Don't get me wrong. He's my brother." She breathed hard out of her nose, a reluctant sound. "I love him or whatever but... I also can't stand him." Bobby chuckled softly at her statement and Alex wished she could see some humor in the situation, too. For her, it was all misery. A long beat of silence passed and Alex's very real pain under her anger grew stronger. She stared unseeingly in front of herself and said it so softly: "It was so much easier when I couldn't talk."
Bobby glanced at her in surprise. He took a couple beats before asking, "How d'ymean?"
Alex took a long moment to try and think the right words to say. "Just... I don't have a filter anymore. I keep fucking stuff up. I get so pissed and I just say shit. The wrong stuff. It's weird. And hard." She heard herself screaming she wished Sam was dead in her mind, feeling more and more regretful every time she went through that terrible moment. Before, she used to have a chance to write her words down, which gave her time to consider what to say. Now, she could just fly off the handle without being held back at all.
Bobby looked empathetic. "I'm know it's tough, sweetheart," he said, "but for what it's worth, you're doin' just fine. I'm proud of you." Words that were like water in the desert to her heart in that moment. The two hunters glanced at each other briefly and Bobby gave her a kind, encouraging smile that was hard not to ruefully return. Refocusing on the road, Bobby's tone turned fatherly. "Now why don't you try and get some shut-eye? You look tired."
Another little defeated smile. "I'm always tired," Alex leaned up against the cold glass of the window. A moment of silence passed. "Bobby?"
"Yeah?"
She hesitated. "Do you think I should have tried to get Dean back? Was it wrong to not even try?"
Bobby's answer was immediate. "We did the right thing. He was gone, and there was no wholesome way to bring him back. You know that."
She did know that. But it also worried her, because in the back of her mind, she now believed that whatever had pulled Dean out of hell might have sinister plans for him—and Alex refused to lose him again.
Cruising down the road to the familiar hum of the Impala engines with classic rock on the radio, Dean Winchester was glad to be alive, momentarily free from his normal barrage of troubled thoughts. Out of habit, he glanced into the rear view mirror, where he could usually see half of Alex's face where she sat in the back seat. He was reminded that she wasn't there, and he glanced at Sam, who was silent and pensive. On the radio, Highway to Hell began playing. A little disconcerted, Dean switched the radio off. Unlike the lie he had told to Sam and Alex in the motel, he did remember Hell. All of it. Forcibly, he pushed all that out of his mind.
He cleared his throat and glanced over at Sam, who hadn't said much for the whole drive. "So there's still one thing that's bothering me."
Sam acknowledged him with a flicking glance. "Yeah?"
"The night that I bit it. Or... got bit." Dean chuckled at his own joke, but Sam just gave him a shut up look, clearly not amused. Dean composed himself. "Uh, sorry. How'd you make it out? I thought Lilith was gonna kill you and Al."
Sam shook his head . "Well, she tried. She couldn't."
"What do you mean she couldn't?"
Sam paused. "She fired this, like, burning light at me, and... didn't leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something."
"Immune," Dean repeated doubtfully.
Sam shrugged, frowning slightly. "Yeah. I don't know who was more surprised, her or me. She left pretty fast after that. Seemed kinda spooked. Didn't even try to burn Alex. Just disappeared."
Dean's jaw worked oddly as he thought through the entire situation—his baby brother and sister left alone and undefended in this crappy, crazy world—and worse, they hadn't even stuck together. He glanced at Sam irritably. "You know, I wanna know what the hell were you thinking leaving Alex alone all that time, Sammy. You were supposed to protect her."
Sam looked like he'd been caught. "I didn't leave her alone—she was with Bobby." He sounded quieter than he had before. Like he didn't believe his own words. "She was fine."
"You didn't know that for a fact," Dean retorted. "You promised me you'd take care of her when I was gone," he pressed, reminding his brother of a conversation they'd had privately a few weeks before Dean's death day. Sam said nothing, but his silence was distinctly guilty. "So I die and the family falls apart?"
"I guess," Sam muttered apathetically, refusing to look Dean's way.
"Well what the hell happened to make you break that promise to me, man?" Dean demanded.
Sam looked disturbed. "Does it really matter, Dean?" He shrugged, uncomfortable. "We... we fought and I—I just needed to leave, okay?" Dean looked at Sam oddly, who was staring unseeingly into the windshield. "And besides, it was pretty clear to me that she didn't want me around anymore."
"Come on, Sam. She just lost her oldest brother, don't you think she might say some crap she didn't mean?" Sam said nothing, just stewed. Dean shook his head, completely disappointed. "I thought you two were closer than all this. I mean, you've fought before and didn't end up hating each other's guts, right?"
"I mean, yeah, I guess," Sam muttered reluctantly. "You're right. We used to be close. But ever since I started hunting again after college, things've been different. And then with her whole voice thing..." he trailed off, and Dean couldn't know what he was thinking about, but Sam was reliving the things she said to him that night when she told him she wished he'd died. Sad, hurt, and wondering if she really felt that way, Sam remained lost. "I dunno. I thought I knew her, but ever since she could talk again, it's like... she's not who I thought."
"Yeah, or maybe you liked her better when she couldn't call you on your bullshit." That comment triggered something in Sam.
"Dean, why am I getting all this crap from you? She's a grown woman for crying out loud and didn't need me chaperoning her when you were gone. I told you, she didn't want me there, okay? I don't appreciate you making this whole thing about me and my problems!"
"I'm not, I'm just saying—"
"Yes, you are," Sam insisted vehemently. "You're taking her side without even hearing about what went down!" Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair, glaring at nothing in exasperation.
A few beats of silence passed before Dean attempted a new conversation. "So you've been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?"
He got a barely-suppressed dirty look from Sam. "No."
"You sure about that? Well, I mean, now that you've got... immunity, whatever the hell that is... just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap you've got going on."
Sam gave Dean a fully aggravated look, losing patience. "Nothing, Dean. Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road."
"Well thanks for honoring that promise at least," Dean said sarcastically, then reached for the radio to turn the music back on.
Sam hunkered down in the seat silently, brooding.
They reached the psychic's home early the next morning. It was a normal looking house with potted flowers on the front porch. Dean and Sam got out of the Impala and approached the Chevelle where Alex stood watching them. Bobby had intuitively walked ahead and waited at the foot of the porch, leaving the Winchesters to themselves for a minute.
Dean headed for their sister with a reluctant Sam in tow. Alex waited silently, her arms crossed in a way that made her look very unapproachable. Dean was always struck by how for twins, Sam and Alex looked pretty much nothing alike, at least not at first glance, and especially when it came to their builds. Sam towered over his twin. He had about eight inches on her at his height of six-foot-four, and he probably weighed about a hundred pounds more than she did too—he was all muscle and brawn. Alex was tall too, five-foot-eight or so, but next to her freakishly tall twin, she looked short and small. She was built totally differently, with a boyish, straight, and petite physique. She reminded Dean of a beanpole or a fencepost, and he'd teased her as such in the past. But she was very strong. Basically all lean muscle from years of running, fighting, and training.
The twins had different shades of brown hair—Sam's shaggy and floppy, Alex's darker and wavy, messy, long—they did share the same striking hazel eye color, and they both had sharp cheekbones. They made a lot of the same faces and expressions, but their faces weren't strikingly similar. Dean had decided awhile ago that Sam took more after their mom, and Alex more after their dad. Sam had one of those faces that chicks dug—dimples, strong clefted chin, expressive, piercing eyes. Alex had a more youthful face than Sam—big doe eyes, square jaw, dark eyebrows. But, even if the twins weren't too similar physically, they were similar in personality. Stubborn, hard-nosed, headstrong, emotional, and very sensitive. So that's why having to referee this fight they were having was a pain in Dean's ass.
He cleared his throat and looked between the twins, fixing them with his best I'm-pissed glare. "Okay, listen. You two are gonna stow your crap," he commanded with little fanfare, pointing at them in turn. "Say you're sorry and agree to at least be civil to each other." Sam and Alex looked at each other grudgingly and Dean waited impatiently. "Today, guys!"
Alex gave in first. "Sorry, Sam." She clearly didn't really mean it.
"Yeah. Me too." Sam sounded just as genuine as Alex did.
Dean was less than impressed. "Geez, making me weep here," he said sarcastically. They looked at him in unison with identical, annoyed bitchy expressions on their faces. Dean rolled his eyes at their refusal to apologize. "How old are you guys, like five?!" With an exasperated huff he gave up and headed toward where Bobby was waiting near the house.